


Additions

by kriegersan



Series: Babysquared [1]
Category: Archer (Cartoon)
Genre: Baby Fic, F/M, Fluff, Shameless Fluffy Pandering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 04:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2215614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kriegersan/pseuds/kriegersan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Lana, she tortured it out of me! I had no choice but to tell! She just had, like, women’s intuition or whatever, she could tell by my rosy paternal glow of fatherly pride!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Additions

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: For violence against pregnant ladies. And the standard amount of emotional abuse from Malory. Also mentions of pegging/femdom, oops. 
> 
> This is a direct sequel to my drabble 'First Birthday'. Likely also takes place in the same continuity of 'Father's Day'. Both are found in 'Drabble-Free-for-All'.

His head rocked back from the impact of the punch, Archer’s neck slumping forward as blood dripped out his mouth. They’d been at it for at least twenty minutes now, torturing them in, frankly, pretty uncreative methods, trying to get ISIS information by any means necessary. He was pretty sure one of his teeth was cracked, and he had a mild concussion, but in the grand scheme of things, some mook punching the shit out of him was just an average Tuesday. 

Lana, on the other hand, had been mostly spared up to that point, glaring at him as she remained tied up in her chair, gun pointed squarely at her head. Maybe they thought they’d get something out of her, seeing him beaten to a pulp (when in reality, it was deserved for getting them into this position in the first place… douche). 

He took another blow to the temple, tipping over in his rickety, wooden chair, his assailant righting him before he could fall to the floor. “Now I’m gonna ask you again, and I’m gonna stop being polite about it,” said the assailant, meaty hand on Archer’s shoulder.

“Yeah, because I don’t know about you, but I, for one, was enjoying tea time with Grandmother.”

“I mean, I could hit you harder.”

“I’m enjoying the love taps, actually, tickles me right in my special spot.”

“Would you shut up?” hissed Lana, “We don’t know anything, okay. We don’t know shit about your mole or an informant or whatever.”

“Which, I’m sure, has nothing to do with you invading our headquarters through an entrance only someone inside would know about.” He wiped his bloody knuckles off on Archer’s shirt. “Clumsily, I might add.”

Lana jerked her head in Archer’s direction. “Blame this idiot. Can’t sneak through a freakin’ air vent without losing his shit over one little _rat_.”

“Hey!” Archer spat blood onto the floor. “It was a really big rat.” He twisted his hands behind him, letting Lana’s little aside distract the two guards from how quickly he was getting out of his cuffs.

“So if I switch to your little girlfriend,” he said, gesturing over to where his buddy cocked his gun at Lana’s temple, “I’m sure you’ll start spilling, right?”

“Little!” 

“Lana, shut up.”

“Actually, on second thought, I will take little as a compliment. Thank you.”

“ _Lana_!”

“ _What_?”

“Both of you _shut up_.” The guard slammed his fist into Archer’s gut for good measure, forcing him to double over, groaning in pain. He twisted the pin in his handcuffs again -- just a little longer. Had they bought these cuffs from friggin’ Houdini? “Keith. Now.”

Lana opened her mouth to retort before she was staggered out of her thoughts, a fist nailing the side of her head with incredible force. Her chair flew off balance, landing hard on her side, her head bouncing off the concrete floor.

“Your name is _Keith_? That has to be the worst idiot lackey name I’ve ever heard. Lana, tell him it’s the most idiot lackey name you’ve ever heard. I mean, once you’ve made sure you don’t have brain damage or whatever.” There was a very small, but noticeable (to her), amount of distress in his voice. He was trying to distract, to pull the attention back to him.

“I’m still waiting,” said the first assailant, watching Keith round to Lana’s other side. He kicked her sharply in the ribs, her twisting to move her abdomen as far away from the hard, metal toe of his work boot. “This stops when you tell me what I need to know.”

The cuff was almost there. It had to be made of adamantium, for fuck’s sakes. His wrists had gone bruised and bloody. He just needed a few more seconds, Lana crying out as she took another kick to the side.

“Stop _fucking_ kicking me you, ow, asshole, I am _pregnant_!” 

Keith stopped mid-kick, sending a bewildered look to his superior. Lana gasped on the floor, curled up as best she could with her legs tied to the chair. “Uh… Rich…”

Archer let the cuffs, now unlocked, slip down into his hands, before catching Lana’s withering gaze. “She’s lying, moron.”

With ‘Rich’ and Keith distracted by Lana, Archer snuck his hand down into his waistband, retrieving his trusty underwear gun. For some reason, they never checked his junk. Idiots. Or homophobes. Both, maybe.

He fired twice into the back of their heads before they could even properly react, brain matter splattering wetly against the interior walls, blood all over Lana’s legs. They dropped to the ground, lifeless, Lana squirming away from them.

“Took you long enough,” she groaned, Archer leaning down to hurriedly free himself of the ropes around his legs. He went to Lana immediately after, undoing her various bonds, glaring at her while assisting her to her feet.

“The same could be said for you, dummy. You’re freakin’ _pregnant_? You think you could’ve told me before I unwittingly walked us into immediate danger? Is this going to be a pattern with you, Lana?”

“Technically we crawled.”

“ _What_?”

“Into immediate danger.” She stared at him blankly, then pointed upwards. “Through the ducts? We crawled.”

“...Laugh it up, Lana.”

She smiled. “I am.”

Lana kicked Keith out of her way, leaning down to check him over for weapons, relieving him of his assault rifle and combat knife. Archer stared at her with rapt attention, accepting the firearms she pushed into his hands, the keycard for the room they needed to access. “But, like, actually Lana, are you pregnant.”

“...Yes. I actually am pregnant. Like… five weeks?” She checked the ammunition in her weapon, not making eye contact.

His face lit up with excitement, then immediately fell again. “Wait, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I knew if I told you, you’d flip shit and do that overprotective thing you already do with AJ and stop me from coming on this mission, so I--”

“Lana,” he interrupted, “You know there is no literal universe where I would ever be capable of stopping you from doing whatever the fuck you wanted to do. You would rip me apart with your monster hands. Come on, stupid. Don’t you know me better than that? If anything, like, I would’ve probably just been a little bit more, y’know, _cautious_.”

She looked down, a little embarrassed at her own assumption. “...Really?”

“ _No_.” 

“...You asshole.”

He grabbed her bloody hands, turned her into him, pulled her close to his chest. “ _Lana_ , we’re going to have another kid! Do you know how awesome that is! AJ’s gonna have a sibling!” 

“I mean, if we can get out of here with the files we need, before the alarm goes off and we get riddled full of bullets, but yeah.” Archer’s hand slid down to cover her still-flat stomach. “I guess we are. Gonna. Y’know. _Baby_. Baby squared.”

“You’re totally freaking out right now, aren’t you.”

“Noooo. Nope. Nuh-uh.” Still, her eyes were cagey with fear and insecurity as he tipped her chin up to face him. “Sorry… that I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t know how.”

“Yeah, it’s not like I’m the father or anything, Lana.”

Lana sighed, but he could tell she was coming around from the affection in her exasperation. “I hate you.”

“I love you too, stupid.” Archer pushed her hair off her face, his hand curving around the back of her neck. He leaned down and kissed her, hard, Lana licking his blood off her lips. “Now come on, mother of my various sperm deposits. Let’s go mow down some more helpless redshirts.”

Lana turned on her heel, shouldered the door open, Archer gleefully trailing behind her.

\---

Malory sipped her drink, only somewhat focused on her reports, pausing as there was a knock at the door. She looked up, not at all surprised as her idiot son didn’t wait, bursting into the room all energy and too much coffee. She somewhat wished he’d go back to day-drinking, like a normal person.

“Mother!” he shouted, Cheryl sticking her head through the doorway with a curious look. She caught Malory’s glare, and closed the door on her behalf. “Mother, I have something very important to tell you. Of importance. I mean… it’s important.”

“I really hope that it has _something_ to do with your expenses account. Which I might add, is _incredibly_ overdrawn.” She shuffled some documents, raising her eyebrow at him.

He rolled his eyes, dropped down into the chair in front of her desk. “Mother, you are such an _incredible_ buzzkill. Could you not be a bitch for like… three whole minutes?”

“I couldn’t possibly manage more than two minutes and about… fifteen seconds. Maybe.”

“Every day, I am more and more astounded by your displays of maternal love and your nurturing spirit.”

She sniffed. “Irregardless--”

“‘Regardless’, Mother. The ‘irr’ is redundant. It means the same thing either way.”

“ _Irregardless_.” She fixed him with a pointed look, and he laughed. “What was it that you were _so_ worked up about, then? Do tell, Sterling.”

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Well, I’ll give you a hint. It has something to do with Lana.”

“Let me guess. To rid herself of you, she’s defecting to glorious mother Russia and smuggling my granddaughter there in a potato sack. A large one.”

“Mother--”

“Or she finally murdered you. And now, here you are, my idiot son, haunting me out of spite until I inevitably slit my most delicate wrists to join you in the afterlife out of sheer irritation.” Malory jotted down some notes on her document, flipped to the next page.

His hand landed on the desk in front of her, fingers sneaking forward to pull the papers she was focused on out of her reach. Unamused, Malory stared squarely at his smug face, finally giving him her full attention. “What is it, then? I assume you’ve angered her in some way, and came running to mommy for help getting out of the cataclysmic hole you’ve dug for yourself?”

Archer grinned. “Mother. Shut up already.” 

She sighed dramatically, dropping her pen onto the desk. “Oh, you shut up. What is it, then, get on with it!”

“You’re gonna be a Grandmother again!”

“ _What_!?” She slapped her hands flat onto the table, and shot to her feet. “You mean to tell me that you pumped _another_ bastard child into the unwed mother of your appropriated test-tube baby! You don’t even live together, Sterling!” 

“Appropriated! Ten dollar word, Mother. Good job.”

“You better not be lying to me, Sterling. I will systematically destroy everything you love.” She quickly dialed Lana’s number on her intercom, putting her on speaker. “Lana!”

“What? Oh, hi, Malory. What is it. Who died. Do I need to come in?” AJ squealed distantly in the background. “AJ says hi. Can you say, ‘hi, Gigi’?”

“ _Gig_!”

“Oh, hi dear. How sweet! Give Abijean a kiss from me.” She paused for a moment. “...Now, what was I going to say.”

“God, Mother, your Alzheimer’s handbook is in your right pocket. Also, hi.”

“Hi Archer,” Lana replied, flatly. There was some background noise, a wet slurping sound, Lana clearly trying to wrestle the phone away from the mouth of one teething toddler, “No, but, actually, is everything okay? Can I… help you guys with something?”

“Oh, I just remembered,” said Malory, shooting Archer a glare as he chuckled at her expense. “My son told me an interesting little factoid, and I just wanted to ask you to... rectify this, as a favour to me.”

“...Okay. What.”

“He told me you were with child, Lana.”

“ _Did he_?”

“Lana, she tortured it out of me! I had no choice but to tell! She just had, like, women’s intuition or whatever, she could tell by my rosy paternal glow of fatherly pride!”

“Shut up. Ass.”

Lana audibly sighed. “...We were _going_ to tell you together, but shitass here clearly couldn’t keep his big, dumb mouth shut.” She paused, AJ squawking in the background. “But yes, Malory, I am pregnant. Again. Miraculously. Hooray.”

“See, Mother! Your second grandchild! Be proud!”

“And proud I am,” she said, slowly, delicately seating herself back down. It was clear from the ruler-straight rigidity of her spine that she was wholly displeased. “Of you, Lana. For your divine ability to put up with the _complete and utter moron_ that I raised.”

“Technically Woodhouse raised me.”

“And technically he’s not a _complete_ moron.”

“Hey--”

“Well, I suppose, then, dear. Having a second child... and he hasn’t even made an honest woman of you, Lana! I expect better of _my son_!”

“Um, Malory, first of all, that’s none of your business, and second of all, _I’m_ the one who doesn’t want to get married. He’s asked me a few times now.” AJ cooed in the distance.

Malory opened and closed her mouth, staring at the intercom. She scowled, then took a sip of her drink as Archer silently gloated with pride. “Well, how was I supposed to know that!”

“This incredibly difficult process called ‘asking’, Mother. Numerous scientific studies tell me it’s highly effective in the field.” 

Malory glared. “Well… _regardless_ , I am happy for you, Lana, dear. And... you too, Sterling.”

“Oh my God, Lana, I think her heart just grew three sizes!”

“Thank you, Malory.”

“Or she’s having a stroke. Either or.”

AJ squealed merrily into the phone.

“Definitely a stroke. Hi baby.”

“Da!”

“Is the Russian word for ‘yes’, Abijean. See, Mother, our baby is bilingual!”

“Oh, goodie! I suppose idiocy isn’t hereditary after all.”

“Da!”

“Who, exactly, would she inherit that from, do you think, Mother. Wagering a guess on that one.”

“...Goodbye, Malory.”

“Goodbye, dear.”

“See you tonight, Lana.”

“ _Yup_.”

Malory hung up the phone with the press of a button, and fixed Archer with a look. “Wipe that stupid smirk off your face, Sterling!”

“I care about you, too, Mother.”

“Get out of my office you complete and utter _ass_!”

He leapt out of his chair, sauntered to the door. She closed the electronic door on him before he even had a chance to move out of the doorway, tie catching in the lock. Cheryl snorted at him as he tried to maneuver it through the crack, and he ended up just slipping it off.

“Congratulations on the conception of your second infectious meat sack!” she said, innocently enough. 

“Shut up, Carol. Thanks. Wait, how do you know?” 

“Wait, Krieger didn’t tell you about the microphones and cameras?” 

“Why the shit would he put microphones or cameras in Mother’s office?”

Cheryl gave him a skeptical look. “Guess you don’t know, then.”

“Do I…. want to know?”

She chortled. “No. No, you really don’t.”

“...Idiot.”

He started on his way to the armory, the ISIS drones’ heads turning his way as he walked by the desks. He’d more or less expected that reaction from Mother, but her disapproval still stung a little.

His phone started going in his pocket, and he flipped it open. There were at least four or five texts already, various congratulatory messages from his friends, invitations for celebratory drinks, offers from Pam to babysit. Some passive aggressive niceties from Cyril. Stupid idiots. Nobody could keep a secret. 

He couldn’t help but smile. 

At least, until he got to the apartment later, Lana fixing him with a glower that could take down Godzilla, AJ on her hip. “So you told everyone? Already? Didn’t even ask me. That is so, so, classic you.”

“...Did you know Krieger installed cameras and microphones in Mother’s office?”

“You didn’t?” She raised an eyebrow. He shuddered, shouldering off his jacket. AJ kicked her legs, leaning forward, reaching for him.

“God, I don’t want to know.”

“Yeah, you really don’t.”

AJ more or less fell into his outstretched arms, gumming the collar of his dress shirt, (“Baby, this is _Eton_ , stop, why”), as he followed Lana into her living room. He joined her on the sofa, AJ balanced on his knees, facing him, grabbing his hair. “Yes, thank you small child, my hair is indeed handlebars. You sure inherited your mother’s Shrek hands.”

“Stop making fun of our child’s hands. She’s going to have a complex.” 

“Complex or no, she will crush her puny naysayers with her monster hands. Crush, AJ, crush! Ow, Goddamnit.” She squealed, leaning back in his lap, jerking his head forward. Lana chuckled, leaning against the arm of the sofa. “Stop laughing, you dishonest woman.”

“Oh, so it _did_ bother you that Malory chewed you out for not marrying me.”

“...No.”

“Archer.”

“Ugh. I’m just not really sure how I feel about Mother equating the bearer of my children to some godless whore, Lana.”

“I am pretty godless.”

“But… actually,” he said, uncurling AJ’s vice grip on his hair. He kissed her forehead, tucked his hands under her armpits and landed her down on the floor. She proceeded to bang her hands against the table, fall, then crawl back into his lap. He pushed her butt as she landed her slimy face on his pant leg, helping her climb back onto the couch. “I still don’t really get why you don’t want to get married. We wouldn’t even have to live together, Lana.”

“It’s not that I… don’t want to get married. I, just… this works. We have space, we talk about stuff, you tell me things, like… this works so well, and if you would’ve told me five years ago that I’d be pregnant with your second kid, I would’ve punched you to death. I just don’t see why anything needs to change.”

“Well, if I got you a really big ring, you could punch me to death a lot faster.”

She sighed, collecting AJ into her lap as her child wormed her way over. “You idiot.”

“You’re the idiot, idiot.” He tickled the sole of AJ’s foot, eliciting a squeal of delight.

Lana looked down, pushed AJ’s curly hair off her face. “I guess… don’t stop asking. Maybe one day I’ll change my mind. Or whatever.”

“Lana, you’re so desperately in love with me. Of course you will.”

“Desperately, huh.”

“Excessively, obsessively, soul-crushingly head-over-heels in love with the dashing, debonair Sterling Archer.” 

“The same dashing, debonair Sterling Archer who needed a hug last night because he couldn’t handle a frickin’ Disney movie?” 

“Hey, I’ll have you know I relate very strongly to Cinderella. Don’t patronize my perfectly valid emotional responses to classic family animation, Lana!”

“So what you’re saying is, all you need is a Prince Charming.” 

“Pretty sure I already have one, stupid.” AJ grabbed onto Lana’s hands, pulled herself to standing on the cushion between them. She wobbled a bit, landing on her butt back in Archer’s lap.

Lana’s lips pulled up into a little smile, despite herself. “Am I a prince on account of my man hands?”

“Actually, because you rescued me from my evil step-mother. Or Mother. Whatever evil quasi-maternal figure.”

“Ah.”

“And also the giant strap-on.”

“Also that.”

“Da!”

“Yes, AJ. Da! Mommy is a prince.” Vaguely recognizing the word ‘mommy’ she squawked in agreement, before crashing into Archer’s shoulder, her little fingers curled into his shirt, mouth wide open. “And I... am covered in child slobber. Goodbye four hundred dollar shirt.”

“Mmm. Yeah. Embrace it.”

“Embrace _yourself_. You… Lana.”

She leaned over, their increasingly sleepy child squished between them, and kissed him on the mouth. “You gonna spend the night tonight?”

“I guess I could. Wouldn’t want to break the pattern or anything. Ruin your expectations. Your obsession couldn’t handle my absence, even for one night.”

Lana stood up, kissed AJ on the head, made her way into the kitchen. “Not because you want to or anything.”

“That would be just stupid.”

“You’re stupid.”

“Real mature, Lana.” 

He hefted a dozing AJ onto his shoulder and followed Lana into the kitchen. She’d damn near burn it down trying to make anything herself. Some frickin’ prince charming.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Paige (albertstark) on Tumblr, who needed some good, fluffy family fic. Hope you enjoy. Comments and criticism are always appreciated.


End file.
